


Murphy's Law

by dysfunctionalbatfam



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Kidnapping, Life Happens, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 20:09:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20088046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dysfunctionalbatfam/pseuds/dysfunctionalbatfam
Summary: Murphy's law is an adage or epigram that is typically stated as: "Anything that can go wrong will go wrong".





	Murphy's Law

Murphy’s Laws: What can happen may happen.   
Well, fuck Murphy. Of course, these smart-ass scientists and philosiphers just have to be right. Nothing can go wrong with just a regular day of chilling and reading in the park, right? It’s not the vilgante work, which is basically a death gurantee every night. But on just one break, finally doing something normal, there is no chance of injury. At least, that’s what Jason thinks before he wakes up to find himself trapped in a dark, concrete room.

He tests his arms, which he finds are bound by cuffs. Sudden deja-vu hits him, and he stumbles to the side. He is not with the Joker, he reminds himself as he calms down. Jason’s mind seems to be groggy and… drugged.   
Oh, Jason blinks, before fixing his face in a scowl. Fuck Bruce as his status. It’s another goddamn kidnapping. He sighs, leaning back on the wall before shivering. God, is this place cold. A door Jason had never noticed opens, a dim, yellow light filling half of the room. The teen tenses, his senses activated as he scans the figures as Batman had taught him. Two males, average height. Seems to both be in their thirties to forties. The slightly taller one is slim, while the figure next to him with the fiery red hair is bulky and strong. But not as strong as Jason.   
Jason freezes momentarily, thoughts racing in his still sluggish head as he thinks of the way to percieve himself. Hell, he won’t let those bitches get it easy, but he can’t be too damn good or suspicions will arise. He settles back, his lips drawn into a snarl as he fixates his blue-green eyes onto his new captors.

“Got the pretty boy,” The redhead starts, as if Jason isn’t there. “Sure Wayne will pay a handsome fine to get him back.”  
“But he can’t,” The taller purrs. “Oh, will he be horrified.”  
Jason narrows his eyes. So this isn’t for a ransom. What is it then?  
“I swear Wayne only handpicks the prettiest species,” one hums.  
“I’m right here, you know,” Jason speaks up, letting an irratated edge slip into his voice. It cracks slightly; he’s thirsty.  
“Right,” the tall man Jason dubs ‘Jeff’ says. “Restrain the boy and get on with it.  
The redhead, ‘Bob’, obeys and steps towards Jason. The prisoner narrows his sharp eyes and gets into a fighting stance, but is grabbed. Jason squirms and barely has time to react when he hears the click of metal- no, not a gun, for it was too sharp to be one- when his brain registers a cold material clasped around his neck. Jason’s eyes widen. A collar. He grits his teeth, shock taking over just enough for a fucking leash to be hooked onto his collar. Jason is yanked foward, and he staggers, feeling a burn on his neck. He knows if he doesn’t obey, the air will be cut from his lungs. So instead, he snarls.  
“What the fuck are you shits doing to me?” He demands, only half pretending.  
There’s no answer.  
Instead, Jason is merely pulled forward until he ends up in another room, where his captor tries to force him on his knees. He doesn’t comply, of course. Jason aims a sweep-kick, successfully knocking the heavier man’s legs from under him. Bob’s fall, however, brings Jason sharply down with him. Jason gasps for air when he falls too, his heart thrumming in his chest. Damn the collar and the leash.  
“This is a naughty one,” Jeff remarks, an amused expression on his plain face. “Give him a whipping.”  
“I’m not your goddamn pet!” Jason yells angrily once he regains his breath.  
There was a tut in reply, and the pain came before Jason knew it. A burning, searing sensation on his back, and Jason cries out in more of surprise than pain. After fourteen more, only a numb feeling remains, although Jason is sure he has bruised a rib or two as he watches the growing puddle of red around him. 

Jason is his father’s son. He raises his head defiantly, just as he did before to Joker. He can’t be broken, and he can’t be controlled. He’ll rather walk through hell and back before he does. Oops, already done that. He thinks sarcastically. But something changes his mind when he lifts his head up, looks up.

A golden, mock birdcage large enough for a human hangs from the ceiling. And in it, curled up in a shivering ball, is Tim.

**Author's Note:**

> First fic on ao3, hope you like it
> 
> Tumblr: dysfunctionalbatfam


End file.
